


Trial Separation

by ArraFrost



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Aunt Natasha, M/M, Superfamily, Superhusbands, Toddler!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArraFrost/pseuds/ArraFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Steve get into a nasty fight that results in a trial separation with Peter in the middle of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Tony you can't do this anymore!” Steve yelled over Tony's list of excuses he always had on hand. He'd heard them all, they were old, they were recycled and they were drenched in Stark charm that Steve was progressively learning to detest.

“Steve, I promise you that's the last time it will ever happen-” The billionaire's speech was flawless but his eyes were glazed and his stance was wavering as he constantly held himself up against the wall.

“No, it won't Tony! We both know it won't be the last time!” He raked his hand through his hair, frustration seeping out of every pore in his body. He didn't know how much longer he could handle this. The long nights of waiting up for his husband, the calls he received about Tony's behavior at parties or press conferences, having to call Natasha to come babysit Peter because Steve had to go babysit Tony... it was too much.

Tonight especially, when Steve came to collect his husband and found a hot young woman in a stunning red dress that left nothing to the imagination pressed firmly against Tony's body. Her lips had locked on to his neck, smearing her bright red lipstick and making Tony gasp appreciatively. Steve had to restrain himself as the red flashed across his eyes before he politely 'stole' Tony away from the thieving harlot and slammed the playboy against a bathroom stall moments later.

“ _Little rough there Captain.” Tony had slurred until he saw the passion in Steve's eyes had nothing to do with the passion in Tony's pants, to which the genius straightened his jacket and prepared himself for the worst... which was exactly what Tony got._

“Just last week you came home with a lipstick stain on your collar!”

“Nothing happened! She was all over me and I showed her my ring.” Tony lifted up his left hand, flashing all five of his fingers in Steve's face. His husband's expression was not what Tony had predicted. Glancing down at his fingers, he noticed a small light patch of skin around his finger where a gold band normally sat. “Shit.”

The Captain shook his head, turning away from Tony and gripping his own hair tightly with his fingers.

“Steve. It's not. I just took it off for safety, I swear! I'd never-”

“Save it.”

Tony fell silent as he watched Steve's body language. Every movement of his shoulders, the flexing of his fingers in his hair, how he paced anxiously across the bathroom floor.

“You're not going to change are you?” The question was more of a statement. His voice honest as he braved the ground Steve told himself he'd never cross. Changing Tony was something he never wanted to do. He loved Tony for all his flaws and hoped that maybe one day he would calm down enough to make the worrying stop, to settle Steve's fears and show him that he wasn't going to come home to find a strange woman in bed with his husband. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle that day... but now it was steadily approaching.

Tony stared at him, eyes connected, unable to speak, unable to tell him any form of truth or well rehearsed lie. Nothing he could say would appease Steve now because they both knew the outcome.

Steve nodded, water welling up in his eyes as he sucked in a harsh breath. “Yeah... Okay.” He continued to nod as he paced once more under the watchful, unchanging eyes of Tony Stark. The man who had everything, the man he loved, the man he had a child with.

“Peter's going to stay with you.” Without Tony's approval, Steve's head was dipping in agreement, settling their dispute on his own. “I'll contact SHEILD, they'll find me an apartment. I'll call in a week and we'll figure it out.”

The tension stretched between them as Steve gazed at him with decisive eyes. Tony's own were lost, as though he was absent from the room as much as he was absent from the decisions Steve had made for them. Steve was pleading with his eyes, begging for a response, for a reaction, for any form of life to trickle out of Tony's blank slate he was now faced with. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Steve tilted his head, excusing himself from the public rest room and leaving Tony to continue to stare past him.

Steve moved out of Tony's line of sight but he didn't follow the Captain's body as he exited to room. His eyes were instead connected with the mirror placed behind Steve during the entire argument and his own void expression bore into him.

\- - - - - - - -

The heavy, acid-free paper slid between his calloused fingers. Memories sinking in, flashes of the sun beaming through the spaces between rustling leaves, Peter's laughter as his fathers took turns pushing him on the swing. Tony was pushing Peter so high, making him feel like he could fly, just like his Daddy when Steve had crossed to a bench and started sketching. His face concentrated but full of adoration at the two men he loved most in the world. Tony wished he would be able to see that expression once more.

“Daddy?”

Tony nearly dropped the sketchpad Steve had forgotten on the floor of their- his bedroom when his son peaked in from the hallway.

“Hey Pete, come sit next to Dad.” Tony feigned a smile, showing his son all the love he deserved.

The little boy moved quickly, hoping up onto the bed but the kid was smart. He saw through Tony's deceptive smile and curled up in his father's lap, holding the hand that held the sketch pad. Tony sighed, resting a hand on his son's hair, stroking it gently. Peter's eyes were following the pencil lines of the paper.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah Pete?” His heart creeping up his throat as Peter's fingers began to trace the sketch lines of the swing set.

“Why did Papa go?”

Tony's next breath was sharp but he kept up his bravado. No emotions in front of the kid that weren't positive. “Because... he needed some time to think.”

“'bout what?” The voice asked innocently.

“About...” Tony searched his mind for answers he could give his four year old child.  _About whether he still loved Daddy or not_... nope, that probably wasn't even true.  _About Daddy's raging alcoholism_... certainly not.  _About whether he was going to come home and catching Daddy between the legs of a beautiful lady_... definitely not. “About me... I think mostly.”

“Think 'bout Daddy?”

“Yeah Pete...”

“When Papa come home?” The small child rolled over in Tony's lap to look up at his father and Tony glanced down, sighing softly.

“I don't know, Pete. You'll see him soon.” Peter nodded sadly before sitting up and wrapping his arms expectantly around Tony's neck.

“Daddy should say sorry.” The kid was astonishingly clever for his age, able to pick up on anything, especially Tony's guilt that was clearly suffocating them both in the large, spacious room.

Choking back a sob, Tony set the sketch book down next to him on the bed and held his son close. Wanting everything to go back to the way things were, but it was his fault things had turned out this way... and there was little he could do to fix it. “I don't think that will work this time, Peter.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tony’s leg restlessly tapped away beneath the café table, fourth cup of coffee that morning safely tucked between his hands. His eyes darted from the window back to his cup every few seconds, desperate for a glance through the windows. As much as he couldn’t wait patiently, he was the great Tony Stark and he didn’t want to seem too eager waiting for someone in this incredibly plain coffee shop. Grumbling to himself as he subtly gazed down at his watch, he took another sip of steaming hot coffee, enjoying the scalding burn down his throat.

The phone had rung this morning with false promises.

“Hello?” Tony answered his vibrating cellphone, not tearing his gaze from a new piece of armor he was developing for the Mark VIII.

“ _Hi Tony.”_  The blood in Tony’s veins stopped running and he nearly dropped the metal he was working with on his foot, missed it by only a few centimeters. It had been exactly one week since he’d heard his voice. That sweet, polite lull in his tone, the way it made Tony’s skin crawl when he could hear the expression in it.

“Steve…” He all but choked out, his tear ducts deciding they wanted a say in this interaction but Tony refused to let his emotions slip so suddenly.

 _How are you? Where are you? Are you coming home? Peter drew a picture of you last night. He misses his Papa. He’s really gotten the hang of crayons. I’m sorry. I fixed the toaster yesterday. Forgive me. I found a gray hair in the shower. I miss you so much. Please come back to me. Dummy knocked over my coffee. I’m begging you. Did you see those seals on the television? I’ll change, just let me hold you again._ Everything he’d wanted to say to Steve in the past week, every little insignificant detail that had passed through his mind.

The mundane things he would ramble on about to the only person willing to listen to the nonsensical dribble that fell out of his mouth. Every sentence, feeling or thought that shot down Tony’s spine and made him want to curl up on the couch of his lab. Each time Tony stood silently as he gazed in the mirror, wanting nothing more than to feel Steve embrace him from behind, lean into his body and kiss his neck. The daily routine had been broken, as much as Tony wasn’t for routine… Steve was… and the habit of accommodating Steve’s routine or simply being caught in the middle of it… made him miss Steve all the more.

“ _Tony?”_

“Huh?” With a jolt Tony felt himself being pulled out of his mind, his memories, his ridiculous feelings of sorrow, wiping away a lone tear on his cheek.

Steve sighed, impatience slipping into his tone and Tony could tell he was disappointed with Tony’s lack of attention to whatever he had been saying.

“ _I said, we should see each other today and talk about things.”_

Opportunity, hope, desire, all these emotions Tony didn’t think he was capable of feeling all at once rushed into his mouth but before he could answer, Steve continued.

“ _Let’s meet for coffee. There’s a shop a couple blocks away from where I’m staying.”_

“Wouldn’t you rather just come-”  _home, please come home, I need you here in this house with me-_  “back here to meet? More private.”

The breathing on Steve’s line was a mix of frustration and longing.  _“No… meet at nine?”_

Tony glanced down at his watch. It was a little past seven. He hadn’t left his lab since nine o’clock last night after putting Peter to bed.

“Address?” He tried to sound as light and unaffected by this as possible, picking up his sixth glass of whiskey that evening, morning… whatever. It didn’t matter anymore.

Steve gave him the address with a quick and soft goodbye before the line went dead. For several moments, what felt like hours, Tony stood still. The phone held up to his ear, the dull sound of the lack of recipient on the other line buzzing in his ear, eyes staring blankly ahead of him focused on nothing in particular. Slowly he pulled the phone from the side of his face, regaining motor control and gazing down at the call ended display. His thumb swiped over the screen, a sigh escaping his lips as he flipped the phone shut, placing it on the work bench with a significantly less steady hand.

After showering and dropping Peter off at Natasha’s, Tony drove to the coffee shop and arrived nearly an hour earlier than he was meant to be there. Now it was ten to nine and Tony couldn’t help how badly he was fidgeting.

And then he’s there. Standing in the doorway, glancing around the coffee shop for the unmistakable presence of his husband. His eyes travel to the secluded corner in the back almost immediately and their eyes catch. Tony feels his heart beating in his throat and tries to swallow around it while he gets lost in those deep blue eyes. The calm of the sea, the tenderness of a lover, the determination of a soldier, the confidence of a hero. The way the shade changes from the bright, playful color when they bring Peter out on a sunny day to the park… or the darkened, lustful shade when they’re pressed against a wall after a risky mission.

Steve looks down, breaks the spell with a nod of acknowledgement at Tony’s presence before heading to the front counter. He’s going to order a tea. Chai for bad days. Orange pekoe for good days.

The chai tea latte was in front of Tony’s vision first. Gazing up, Tony plastered on the face he used for the press, for conferences, for those days when he didn’t want anyone to know that Tony Stark had feelings.

“Hi Tony.” Steve speaks cautiously as he takes the seat across from Tony, wary of their distance, eyes looking anywhere but directly in Tony’s eyes. And Tony can smell him, can feel the warmth of him in his nostrils even though he’s all the way on the other side of the table. All Tony can think of is why isn’t Steve closer to him? Why isn’t Steve’s body pressed firmly against his own like a perfectly fitted puzzle piece?

“Hey.” Is Tony’s clipped response, a friendly smile gracing his lips even though he has nothing to smile about.

They sit awkwardly, neither knowing where to start and Tony getting lost down the length of Steve’s arms, in the collar of his shirt that hides the curves of his collar bones, the way his nostrils flare with every breath and his lips parted the tiniest bit to exhale. One week had never felt so long.

“About Peter…” Steve muttered, skipping past any more awkward formalities and straight to the fact that they have a kid in this situation between them.

“He’s with Natasha.” Tony responded, eyes fixed on the pulse beating below Steve’s chin, wondering if it still tasted the same, if it would still evoke the same hitched groan.

“I meant…” Steve fidgeted in his seat as he rubbed his neck awkwardly. “… my place right now is big enough. I’d like it if he came to stay with me for a bit.”

Tony’s eyes darted to Steve’s, a possessive and terrified jolt running down his spine.

“Not like that!” Steve caught on quickly, raising a hand in defense, his voice reassuring and his eyes finally not shying away from his husband’s gaze. “For a bit, a few days and then he can go back to you… for a few days and… well, back to me.”

Suddenly Tony’s eyes weren’t interested in reacquainting themselves with the body they’d missed seeing in front of him every day. They dropped to the table, taking in the full force of implications… no they weren’t implications. It was there. Blatant and sour on his tongue.

“Don’t do this…” His voice was barely above a whisper as he kept his head lowered. Steve was silent but he could hear the shift in his breathing, the subtle alterations to the atmosphere. Licking his lips, Tony glanced up at him from beneath his eyelashes, voice pleading. “Come home.”

Steve looked away immediately, taking a breath and biting his lip before glancing back, eyes focused on the table instead. “I can’t.”

“You can. We’ll be a family again It’ll be exactly the same as it was and I won’t go out. Ever. You can lock me inside and I’ll never go to another benefit ever again-”

“Tony-”

“You’ll have to hash this out with Pepper but-”

“ _Tony.”_

The world felt like it was caving in and Tony could only breath harshly, emotions on his sleeve, not caring if anyone saw Tony Stark breaking down in a meager coffee shop. “I  _need_ you.”

Steve covered his eyes with his hand, massaging his forehead as he tried to regain his willpower, anything so he wouldn’t give into Tony like they both knew he wanted to. But that’s when Tony’s stomach dropped, that’s when he noticed and that’s when his voice began to tremble.

“Your ring?”

Steve’s eyes widened, eyes taking in the empty space on his left hand where the gold band had been sitting for years. He didn’t answer, his eyes were filled with shame and apologies but his face was still and unchanging.

The world fell away from Tony and he wasn’t able to find any solid ground to stand on. He felt dizzy, his head was pounding and he fought off the impending nausea. Placing a shaky hand on the table he stood up all too suddenly, his feet nearly collapsing under him. Steve stood up when the table shook from Tony’s almost fall but didn’t move forward. Finding his footing, as weak as it might have been, Tony fled the building, thinking of nothing but his need for fresh air.

Steve cursed, reaching into his wallet and pulling out a bill he hoped would be enough to cover both of them before following. He found Tony only a few buildings away, down the first alleyway he could get to, resting his head on the brick wall as he breathed deeply, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Tony…” He approached his husband tentatively, one arm stretched out as he placed a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony jerked away, leveling his eyes with Steve.

“Why can’t we try? Why are you-”

“Because we have tried, Tony.” Steve cut him off, frustrated and angry but sorry for the pain he was causing. “Every night you went out I stayed up and worried, I put our son to bed thinking that you were in someone else’s. But I stayed. Every day, every lipstick stain, every ‘nothing happened Steve, don’t worry about it’ I was there. And every time I told you not to do it… every time I begged you to come home at a decent hour… It’s too hard, Tony. I can’t do that anymore.” Steve took in a long, stuttered breath. “I love you but I can’t share you. I can’t spend all night worrying I’ll never get you back.”

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed, watching the trickle of tears stream down Steve’s face. His heart was beating wildly in his ears and the pressure against his chest was making it difficult to breathe. Carefully, he lifted his hand to caress Steve’s cheek, cupping his face in his palm, stroking a tear away with his thumb.

Steve sighed and moved into the touch against his better wishes. The half lidded, soft blue eyes, the tears shining against his cheeks, the smooth feel of his skin, the overwhelming scent of Steve drew Tony in and suddenly his lips were pressed gently, urgently against Steve’s. There was a quiet murmur of disapproval before the lips beneath him moved with his own. Soft, quick pecks that transformed into long, languid, passionate kisses that pressed Tony into the wall.

Hands darted up into Steve’s blonde hair, gripping and pulling him closer while Steve pinned him to the wall with a hand on his hip and one on his chest. Steve caressed the arc reactor through the cloth of Tony’s shirt and Tony sighed into the kiss, tugging him closer to fill any space between their bodies.

A knee parted Tony’s legs roughly but it was greeted with a welcoming moan that disappeared into Steve’s mouth. Everything was fast, angry, and heavy with need as their bodies move together. Steve’s thigh rubbing up the length of Tony’s groin, Tony’s fingernails dragging bitter lines down Steve’s back even through the cotton shirt, the harsh breath in each others ears as they move frantically against one another.

Tony can feel the heat down to the pit of his stomach as he curls a leg high around Steve’s thigh, and he moans, mouth open, jaw slackened, head slamming dangerously back against the wall. Steve’s teeth sink into a tender spot on Tony’s neck, just the right spot to make him whimper and dig his nails into Steve’s shoulders.

Another moan is drawn from Tony’s lips as Steve’s teeth find their way to his ear, nibbling, licking, sucking on the sensitive spot behind his ear that will make him-

“ _Fuck!”_ Tony cries, bucking up into Steve’s smothering embrace, craving contact, needing to feel Steve everywhere at once.

Steve claimed his lips, hard and with more teeth than lips or tongue but it’s perfect and it’s what they need. It’s what they want and they can’t stop themselves from taking everything the other has to give.

Tony’s first, his arms tightening around Steve’s shoulder as he moans into the fierce kiss, Steve biting down on his lower lip to keep the contact but not deny himself the sweet sound of Tony’s voice as he comes. Steve’s pace quickens, losing all sense of rhythm as he rocks his hips into Tony’s with abandon. His hands are clutching Tony, working him roughly into the wall as he rides out his climax, breathing a muffled groan against Tony’s cheek.

Pressed into each others bodies like they were always meant to be, they don’t move for a long time. But the slow realization of their actions, their location and the damp fabric sticking to their skin makes Steve pull away. He runs his hand through his hair, straightening it from the damage Tony’s hand has done.

Tony doesn’t move, he’s become a fixture against the wall, lips bruised and eyes glazed from lust and heartache. Steve wants to reach out and adjust Tony’s shirt, help him compose himself but he clenches his fists at his side, watching Tony slowly peel himself from the bricks. Neither can look in the other’s eyes but Steve can feel Tony’s gaze so strongly that he has to slip his hand into his pocket out of guilt.

“I…” Steve starts but he’s still out of breath, still back in the moment that felt so right but knew was wrong. He breathes in, composing himself before starting again. “I’ll pick Peter up from Natasha’s this afternoon. We can talk more later… on the phone.”

Tony nodded absently, he feels distant, like he’s watching everything from some unknown space and everything is quiet and much louder than he’d expected.

Steve almost moves forward, to hug Tony, to shake his hand, he’s not sure but he stops himself all the same. Shakes his head before he nods at Tony, trying to catch his eyes one last time but Tony’s not all there anymore. Steve opens his mouth for one last word that’s never spoken. Instead, he turns and leaves the alleyway, not able to cast a single glance back at Tony who stares at the ground, lost from the world.


	3. Chapter 3

“Aunt Tasha... when you think Papa come home?”

Natasha's attention snapped from the newspaper to the small boy she considered her nephew who had been sitting on the floor coloring. Usually Peter colored with bright blues and reds, today he was using pastels and dull ones at that. Sighing, she folded the paper and gave Peter a soft smile.

“I don't know, Peter.”

“I miss him.” Peter nodded as he continued to scrawl the crayon across the paper.

“Yeah...” Natasha honestly wasn't sure what to make of this situation. She'd been watching Steve and Tony's relationship since it started and yes it had been rocky but Steve knew what he was getting into. The team had bets on how long it would last at first and then everybody was owing money to Bruce, who actually placed his bet on marriage. Guess the doctor knew something the rest didn't from spending so much time in that lab with Tony.

Eventually, they all assumed Steve would calm Tony down and believed he was the one Tony would be loyal to above all others. And for a while he had been. A couple years of peace, Peter was adopted as an infant and Tony came home on time, there were no words of reassurance that Tony hadn't betrayed anyone. They were a good family, struggling to balance business and saving the world with raising a son, but they supported each other and had the rest of the Avengers behind them.

Then it started up again this past year. Tony was the same old playboy who was staying out late to parties, drinking far too much and flirting the way a married man shouldn't. He had never gone home with anyone though, Natasha was sure of it.

“Daddy's lonely...” Peter murmured, glancing up at his aunt with eyes that saw far more than any four year old should.

The smile that spread on Natasha's lips was a lie, but her eyes softened and she would convince the child that everything was going to be all right. “Daddy has you Peter, he's not lonely.”

Peter shook his head. “Not same...”

Her expression deteriorated from its false promises at the child's knowledge. Peter was smart... almost too smart for his own good. Most of the time, the Avengers were impressed that Peter was so intuitive, but right now Natasha wished he was an oblivious child.

Both heads rose to the sound of the door knocking. Natasha gave the child a smile and Peter understood, going back to his drawing as his aunt stood up to go answer the door.

“Steve.” She was almost surprised to see the Captain standing in her doorway. Tony being the one who dropped Peter off and Steve being the one who left...

“I know this is unexpected.” Steve began, expression abashed as though he had to explain himself to Natasha.

“That's okay. I only thought Tony would be picking him up.”

“Yeah... I um... told him I would.”

“Does that mean...?” Natasha trailed off, hoping Steve would finish her sentence for her but, considering the way he was staring intently at the ground, that wasn't going to happen the way she wanted it to. “No. I suppose not.”

“The apartment has a room for Peter... I spent the week making sure everything was in order.” Steve rambled in a way that made Natasha sigh and move aside for Steve to finally shuffle awkwardly into her apartment.

“Steve, I'm not judging you.” That made Steve look up at her, his eyes filled with emotion that Natasha had seen on those nights when she volunteered to come over and pick Peter up for the night while the boys worked out their issues... or on those occasions where Tony didn't come home until morning and Natasha drove by to keep Steve company. He was close with the other Avengers, they were all close, but out of the non-husband-types it was Natasha who had grown closest to the Captain. She knew better than most what Tony's behavior had done to Steve, how worn he'd become. She wasn't going to be someone to put the blame on Steve for leaving. “You did what you needed to do.”

“But what if I'm wrong, Nat?” It was as though Natasha had given him permission to voice his doubts, to talk to her the way he always had rather than constantly feeling ashamed for giving up. “What's this going to do to Peter?”

“Don't do that to yourself, Steve. If you second guess yourself now, you'll never get what you need out of this.”

Steve slumped a little against the kitchen counter he found himself against. “What am I trying to get out of this?”

“Only you'll know the answer to that.” But her guess lay in their late night talks featuring Tony and how lonely Steve felt all the time.

“Do you think...” Natasha stared at the contemplative man, waiting for him to continue so she might take a shot at answering him in her cryptic sort of way, but he shook his head and shifted away from the wall. “Peter?”

She nodded to the living room, deciding not to pry into what Steve had been trying to say. Steve gave her a soft smile before heading into the room, to which she immediately heard an enthusiastic “Papa!” and a chuckle from her friend as he no doubt scooped his son up into a hug.

It was followed by Peter running in with his hands full of the crayons he wanted to take home, two blues, a red, and a neon green, to which she put into his bag for him, along with his sketch pads before giving him a tight hug.

“Take care, Cap. If you need to talk...” Natasha trailed off and Steve nodded with a grateful smile.

“See you later, Nat.”

“Bye Auntie Tasha.”

“Aunt Tasha.” She corrected the young boy who blushed for his use of “ie” in her prefix. She had to teach him young if he was ever going to not call her that. Thankfully when he got older and tried to use it for spite, she could kick his ass in the friendly way an aunt would normally kick her nephew's ass... which basically meant she would intimidate him and flip him onto his back, knocking the wind out of him for a second so he'd never do it again.

\- - - - - -

Peter stepped out of Steve's car, carrying his Iron Man bag in his arms, close to his chest because as outgoing as Peter was when he was around the Avengers, in public he was incredibly shy. His little eyes stared up at the building that Steve led him to from the parking lot and he stopped when his father took out a key for the door.

“Where are we?” Peter asked in that timid voice of his.

Steve turned around, slightly surprised. He'd explained to Peter that they were going to Steve's new house, not their penthouse in Stark Towers. “This is your other home now, Pete.”

Peter stared up at the short twenty story apartment building. Compared to Stark Towers every other building in Manhattan felt small and insignificant. “Here?”

“Yes, Peter. What's wrong?”

“Don't like it.”

Steve sighed as he took in the skeptical expression on his son's face. “I know it's different, but you'll get used to it, Peter. Don't worry.”

The frown on Peter's face didn't fade away after those words, but Peter did move forward next to his father to follow him into the building. They took the elevator up to the sixth floor, Peter questioning the stability of it and suggesting that there were probably alterations that could be made to improve it. Except he asked in that cute, broken speech of his that made Steve feel even more embarrassed that he was now living in a place that a four year old was criticizing. Then again... Peter was Tony's son and he'd learned well.

The door was opened and Steve held it open as his son walked in with small, cautious steps. He looked around the apartment, barely leaving room in the entryway for Steve to squeeze by him and shut the door.

It was a fairly regular apartment. A small television for Peter with one of those gaming consoles he liked, a modest couch and two matching chairs. The only division from the dining room to the living room was the carpet changing to tile and the only thing buffering the kitchen from both rooms was an island counter space. The bathroom door lay to the left and the two bedroom doors to the right. It was small, but it had the basics and it was far more to Steve's tastes than he'd ever really gotten from Tony's eccentric and extravagant style.

Peter shifted awkwardly, looking around and up at the ceiling as though he was waiting for something to happen. “Hello... JARVIS?”

Steve opened his mouth and closed it in the same breath. That was something he hadn't accounted for. Peter grew up with the A.I.'s disembodied voice, it was only natural for him to expect it in a place that was described to him as 'home.'

“JARVIS isn't here buddy.”

Peter turned around, his eyebrow furrowed in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because... JARVIS is only in Stark Towers.”

“Oh...” The young boy frowned deeper, breathing in a long breath before averting his dejected eyes to examine the carpet.

Kneeling down, Steve tilted his head until his eyes connected with his son's. “I know this is hard, Peter. I know things are different and it's strange, but it's something we'll both get used to.”

“I... don't like it.” The saddened look in Peter's eyes was heartbreaking and all of Steve's doubts rushed to the surface. How could he do this to his son? Why was he torturing all three of them when it was clearly displacing them all? Tony was a wreck, that was something he was sure of after their... interaction earlier that morning in the coffee shop and in the alleyway... He was stupid. He'd made so many mistakes with how he went about this. He wished, he wished that they could go back to the way things were. So they could all be together again and not frustrated and confused and hurt but that simply wasn't going to happen.

Steve had made his decision. He couldn't live with Tony knowing that he was going to continue that horrid lifestyle even though Steve begged him to come home at a decent hour and not make him worry. Steve was strong, he was Captain America, he could fight in wars and defend the people of New York, but when it came to imagining Tony in the arms of a woman while he waited at home... he wasn't strong enough for that.

“I know, Pete.” Truth be told, as accurately as it suited Steve's personality and forties sensibility... he didn't much enjoy the apartment either. The appliances were simpler and Steve didn't have to ask JARVIS to do all the work for him when he couldn't figure something out, but it wasn't his home. Even before he and Tony got together, he was living in Stark Towers and it had grown on him. It had become his first real home after he'd woken up from his incredibly long nap. “But we're going to be here for a while. You'll go back to Daddy every now and then, but this is home too now. Can you give it a try? For Papa?”

Peter sniffed, glancing around at the apartment once more, observing all the flaws that his bright four year old eyes could find before reconnecting his gaze with his father's. “Okay...”

Steve smiled softly, pulling Peter into a gentle hug which Peter would have returned except he was still holding tightly onto his bag. When Steve pulled away, he stared at his son with concern. The small boy's eyes were watering up as he stared down.

“Peter?”

“Daddy got hug too...”

Steve lowered his gaze to the Iron Man bag, realizing what had happened and his breath hitched when unwanted feelings rushed him.

“Daddy needs real hug.” Peter's clouded eyes were firm as they held his father's eyes, his lip quivering. “Daddy's sorry... go home...”

Tearing his gaze from his child, Steve stared up at the ceiling and swallowed hard. Hearing his son say that, in such a desperate voice, was too much for any man to handle, let alone Steve who had been wrestling with his conscience this past week about how wrong his decision to leave was.

“I know Daddy is, Peter... I know... but I can't.” He exhaled a heavy breath and took Peter into his arms again.

“Do you love Daddy?” Peter's muffled voice asked, he had started crying a bit even though he was holding it back.

“Yeah... Yes I do, Peter... and we both love you, too. Very much. But right now Daddy and Papa need time apart.”

“How much time?”

Steve sighed, giving his son a squeeze as he stared at the blank wall across from him. “I don't know, Peter... I don't know...”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So terribly sorry it's taken me two months to update. Thank you so much for waiting patiently! I hope you can still enjoy the chapter even though you've waited far too long for it.

Tony stood behind one of his cluttered desks in the lab. The state of cleanliness was even worse than usual without any desire to tidy anything up. He didn't put anything back in its proper place, not even the most important documents he normally kept under lock and key. None of it mattered. It wasn't as though someone was going to enter the house. He had everything on its highest security settings. The only ones who would be able to enter would be himself, Peter, Pepper and... Steve if he pleased.

The worst of the mess was the amount of empty glasses surrounding him. The liquor cabinets had relocated to the lab in the form of a row of alcohol lining the work bench to his far right. Most of them were half empty now, some entirely so. There were few moments where Tony even felt the possibility of sobering up.

“I miss you...” Tony hiccuped, reaching his hand to caress the cheek of his husband. “I... I want you to come home... I'm a wreck without you...”

Tony's thumb ran across the still lower lip and the hologram fizzled, returning to its manufactured form only when Tony pulled away. He stared at the permanently blue face of the projection, the eyes that couldn't quite capture the chills they sent down the genius' spine. “Steve...”

“Tony?”

His hand jolted down to a button on the computer in front of him and the realistic hologram of Steve from head to toe disappeared immediately. Running his hand through his hair, he turned to see Pepper standing in the doorway to his lab. A clipboard in hand, here on business no doubt, and sending her boss a heap of concerned vibes.

“Hey Pep, little busy right now. Jarvis pull up the blueprints on prototype 6.4.B, gotta finish that... adjustment... thing.”

“ _Sir, the file requested does not exist.”_

“What? Of course it exists.”

Before the A.I. could respond, Pepper moved forward with the loud clack of her heels echoing through the space, her eyes focused on the line of alcohol bottles. “Tony, how much have you had to drink?”

“Uh... how much  _haven't_  I had to drink is the right question.” Tony practically slurred as he took another chug of his current glass of brandy. The best kind naturally.

“This isn't healthy, Tony.”

“Am I ever, Pep?”

“You're drunk.”

“Exceedingly.” Tony grinned, another swing of his drink that Pepper snatched from his hand a moment after.

“You need to stop this. No one has seen you in days.”

“No one worth seeing.” Tony shrugged, stumbling around his desk to his row of delightful numbing self-medication.

“Tony-”

“My alcohol, Pep. My money. Can't stop me.” He didn't bother pouring the cognac into a glass, drank it straight out of the decanter. It was nearly empty anyway and Tony had no qualms with finishing it off.

“Jesus, Tony. You have to stop.” Pepper placed her clipboard on one of his less cluttered desks and moved to grab his shoulders, forcing him into direct eye contact. “What happens when Peter comes home? Do you want him to see you like this?”

“He's with his dear old Papa... gone all weekend. Won't be back until Tuesday.” The words tasted bitter on Tony's tongue, nothing a glass of malt Scotch wouldn't fix... and he'd be kind enough to pour Pepper a glass too.

“Tony, today is Tuesday. How long have you been down here?”

Ticking off the days on his fingers that weren't being used to pour their drinks, Tony gave his secretary a wry smile. “Thursday.”

“Have you eaten anything non-alcoholic?”

“Got pizza pockets in the freezer,” Tony pointed to his mini-deep freeze next to the microwave. “Want one to go with your scotch?”

Pepper held her hand out to ward off the glass offered to her. “I'm not drinking anything and neither are you.”

With a sly raise of his eyebrow, Tony retracted the drink intended for Pepper and drank it in one gulp. “Where's your logic now?”

The glare he received from Pepper was a few notches above her usual death threatening expressions when she took his empty glass away from him. Placing it on the table non-too-gently, she grabbed his elbow and tugged him away from the alcohol train. “Okay, that's enough. Come upstairs with me right now. I'm putting you to bed and I'll look after Peter until you wake up. If you're lucky I might even be nice enough to nurse your hangover later.”

“No.” Tony pulled back, resisting her even though she managed to drag him halfway across the lab. “I'm fine here.”

“You're going to sleep in your bed, Tony. Right now.”

Tony dug his bare feet into the floor, refusing to move. “I can't go in there!”

Pepper paused, loosening her grip on Tony as she leaned in to get a closer look at his face. “What?”

“I... can't, Pepper. I walk by the door and it hurts... don't... don't make me go in there without him.”

“Tony...” Instantly he found himself wrapped in her arms, her tight embrace knocking away his barriers because she was just that good at getting to him, at making him feel comfortable and safe enough to be vulnerable. There were few people he trusted to see him break and Pepper was one of the four.

“It's my fault... It's all my fault, Pepper...”

“Shh, Tony. Shh it's okay, I've got you.” Her hand stroked his hair as he clung to her, allowing himself to cry on her shoulder.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Tony, you gotta help me out here. I can't carry you all on my own.” Pepper grunted, tugging Tony into the elevator. It had been a miracle that she'd managed to drag the drunken man across the lab to the elevator in the first place. He had cried in her arms until he calmed down enough for her to convince him that getting some sleep would be beneficial. It nearly sent him into another fit but she promised he could sleep on the couch in the living room instead.

“No, Pep. I wanna hold you. You're gonna stay with me, right?”

“Yes, Tony. I'll stay.” The doors of the elevator closed in front of them and Pepper informed Jarvis that they were going to the main floor.

“All night long?”

“It's two in the afternoon, Tony.” Pepper paused, leaning her boss against the wall to take some of the weight off her. This was not an ideal situation. Tony was distancing himself from reality more than she had expected. “I know you can avoid your job, but unfortunately I can't.”

“I'm your boss.” Tony let his head rest on the wall even though his hands gripped tighter around Pepper's shoulders, forcing her to lean into him as his eyelids grew heavier with the notion of sleep. “I hereby give you the day off!”

“No, Tony.” She sighed, giving him the same exasperated smile that Tony was accustomed to. As tempting as it was to succumb to Tony's whim and nurse him back to health or give him the attention he craved, if it wasn't possible back then, it certainly wasn't now.

The elevator doors opened and Pepper shook her head, her decision made as she pulled Tony's arm comfortably around her shoulder to support his weight once more. “One of us needs to keep this company running.”

Tony clung desperately to Pepper as she urged him out of the elevator. “But Pep! I want- I need you to be here with me... all night long... please... please I don't... I want you... want someone...”

His soft words trailed off with a soft sigh and Tony finally dozed off on her shoulder, leaving her with complete dead weight that would make her job much harder. Pepper rolled her eyes as she dragged him out into the hallway, expecting it to be empty as she glanced down in the direction of the living room, which was also the direction of the other elevator, the one made out to appear as the front door of the penthouse.

Steve stood in front of his own set of elevator doors that had closed behind him, Peter holding his hand at his side. Peter smiled brightly at the sight of his Aunt Pepper and his Dad coming out of the other elevator down the hall but Steve... that wasn't an expression she had ever seen on his face.

It was hatred. Directed not at Tony, but at Pepper.

“So that's how it is?” Steve scowled, his voice thick with disgust.

Pepper wanted to pull away from Tony, as though putting physical distance between them would immediately destroy the notion setting firmly into Steve's mind, but she was the only thing keeping him upright. Her lips open, intent on dispelling his irrational thoughts, but Steve cut her off.

“No, I understand.” Steve gritted his teeth, leveling his gaze with the redhead pressed close to his husband. “I understand perfectly.”

“Steve, please don't-” Pepper began but the Captain's voice sharply cut her off.

“Come on, Peter. Daddy and  _Auntie_ Pepper need to be alone for business.” Steve took his son by the hand as he turned, pressing the elevator button and the door opened immediately. Pepper didn't miss the cynicism in the way he said “auntie.”

“Wait, Steve. You can't leave like this.” Pepper continued despite the cold shoulder she was receiving but she couldn't let Steve go with such an irrational thought filling his mind. It took a bit of effort but she shrugged Tony off her shoulders and let him slump against the wall. She would have been surprised Tony could sleep through this tension, but considering the amount of alcohol he had consumed...

Now free of Tony's dead weight, Pepper was able to walk purposely down the hallway, slapping her hand on the emergency stop before the doors could close and transport Steve and Peter back downstairs. “Steve Rogers you are going to stay up here and listen to me because you know me better than the irrational thoughts that are filling your head.”

The inhale that Steve took before his eyes leveled with hers was defiant, resistant, but she knew he had given in to her demands as soon as their eyes connected. This was Steve Rogers, he was not one to jump to conclusions, he always gave people the benefit of the doubt but he'd been tainted by Tony Stark. Reduced to a jealous mess whenever the playboy was involved, rightfully so considering Tony's track record that Pepper had lectured him about time and time again, always with Steve and Peter's best interests in mind, but especially for Tony... because she could see how much these two belonged together.

“Peter, dear. Why don't you go downstairs and sit in my office? There's a bunch of coloring books in there.” Pepper smiled down at the young boy who only nodded, his expression perplexed and worried, definitely confused but Pepper could see some recognition of the situation behind his eyes. Her gaze locked on Steve and he accepted the look she had given him, stepping out of the elevator as requested, and the redhead pressed the button to send Peter away.

When Pepper turned away from the now closed doors of the elevator, her soft smile faded as she saw Steve's eyes, focused on the sleeping Tony sprawled against the wall of the hallway. Sadness, longing, hatred, anger, and other emotions that Pepper didn't want to delve into were all mixed in the blue of the Captain's eyes.

“Steve...”

“I know Pepper. I know you wouldn't do that to me.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper but it was strong and determined.

“But you don't doubt he would?”

“He has.”

Pepper bit her lower lip at his harsh tone. She knew all too well what Tony was like, how he appeared to have no concerns or respect for how you felt about where he was at all hours of the night or who he was with, and if he got a bit too drunk and far too carried away, well that wasn't his fault. It was the alcohol, the heat of the moment, the person had been too convincing and took advantage of him. Those were all common excuses she had heard in her time, but never had he done this. When she left Tony, yeah he was a mess for a while. But he still went out, went to parties, had a good time, and moved on. Found something else. Found Steve. And for the life of Pepper, she couldn't be mad because Steve made Tony a better person.

“He loves you.”

Pepper wasn't expecting the snort from Steve, the look of disbelief on his face when he turned from his husband to the personal assistant. “Doesn't show it very well.”

“Since when is Tony good at showing anything involving emotions?”

Steve didn't have an answer for her, only averted his eyes and placed them back on Tony who shifted in his sleep and mumbled something sad and broken.

“Steve...” Tony's brows furrowed as he curled closer against the wall, barely a whisper as it echoed down the hallway but Pepper saw how it affected Steve. His well-maintained expression faltering as his name hit him, the way his lips pressed against each other, the way his eyes lifted to the upper right corner to restrain the emotions bubbling inside him.

“He misses you.”

A short exhale escaped Steve's lips, unable to trust himself to speak or look down and break the floodgates.

“Let me show you something.” Pepper spoke tenderly, moving swiftly past Steve and stepping carefully around Tony's body, stopping in front of the elevator she and Tony had emerged from earlier. Steve watched her suspiciously out of the corner of his eyes, shooting a glance to Tony before he followed her into the elevator. Pepper didn't miss the way his eyes were glued to the sleeping form until the doors closed completely.

“What are you showing me, Pepper?” Steve finally asked, his voice strained but trusting it enough to not break down.

The redhead didn't speak, said not a word until the doors opened to Tony's lab and she moved with a determined stride, knowing Steve was following her hesitantly until she stopped at one of Tony's desks. Her hand reached out, hovering over a button she recognized, uncertain for only a moment before she pushed it and stepped aside. Steve, behind Pepper, was faced with a holographic image of himself. A 3D blue projection that resembled... resembled him on the day Tony had proposed... the same shirt he was wearing, the same expression on his face and in his eyes... all adoration and joy directed at Tony, the man who unexpectedly helped him adapt to the new world and healed his heart, and in doing so took it for himself.

Steve laughed sadly, face contorting as he inhaled a deep breath to the ceiling. It was ridiculous that an image of himself could do this to him. The more he looked, the more he realized that Tony had been down here most of the time Steve had been gone. Had manufactured this version of him to look at while he was working, to talk to absentmindedly about formulas Steve couldn't possibly begin to comprehend all because he'd come downstairs to check up on his husband and make sure he was eating properly. And the longer the holograph stood before him, the louder Steve could hear Tony's voice in his mind, telling him all the things Tony wasn't brave enough to leave the house and find Steve to tell them to his face. The tears, the heartache, the longing, the apologies, the promises.

“Turn it off...” Steve whispered, covering his mouth with his hand. When nothing happened, Steve glanced around the lab to find no traces of Miss Potts. He had been so transfixed that he hadn't noticed her slipping back into the elevator and probably down to Peter. Clever woman was too smart and helpful for her own good.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Steve spent the elevator ride composing himself but none of that helped when he was kneeling down in front of Tony's restless form. “Damnit Tony...” He whispered, taking a deep breath before placing his hand on his husband's shoulder and giving him a firm shake.

Tony mumbled incoherently but turned into the warmth of Steve's hand, face scrunched up from the dream, most likely nightmare, he was having.

“Tony...” He called out softly, rocking the man again, willing him to wake up. Nothing, no change in his demeanor, no matter how many times Steve shook him. With that much alcohol consumption, Steve would probably need to punch Tony to pour a considerable amount of water over his head to wake him up... and that wouldn't be the ideal start to any conversation between them at the moment. With a sigh, Steve retracted his hand and made to sit up.

“Don't go.”

Steve started at the words that fell off Tony's lips, his eyes remained closed with sleep, but the words were crisp and clear, pleading out to him and when Steve returned his hand to Tony's shoulder, the man moved into the touch with a content sigh.

“Jesus...” Steve muttered, barely able to take this in. “You're not making this easy on me, Tony.” Without removing his hand from Tony's shoulder, he sat down more comfortably on the floor next to him and was surprised to find Tony shifting forward and rolling into his lap. Fighting the urge to move, as well as the urge to run his hand down the man's back and soothe him, Steve simply leaned back with a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his own hair.

“This is hard for me Tony, especially with you passed out because you're an idiot and you bury your emotions in alcohol. It's not healthy and it makes me worry and I shouldn't... or at least... I wish I didn't anymore... but I do. I wish I didn't think about you all the time Tony, but I do. You're always there, no matter what I do. Reminding me of how big a part you've played in my life these past years.” Steve looked down at Tony's slumbering face, noticing how less frustrated he looked in his sleep, how much easier he felt now that Steve was present.

“I made coffee the other day, Tony. I don't drink coffee.” His hand was moving to Tony's face before he could stop himself, the back of his index finger stroking the man's cheek, feeling his longer than normal facial hair and the stubble surrounding it.

“We're going to try again.” Steve cupped Tony's cheek with his hand, running his thumb across his closed eyelid, a small smile spreading across his lips as he did. Having Tony near again, feeling his breath against him and watching him sleep. It felt as though everything was back to normal. “When you wake up, we're going to have a long discussion about how terrible you make me feel for loving you so much and I'm probably going to yell at you for making me miss you. But you'll get to yell at me for leaving and we'll be even, don't you think?”

Leaning down, Steve's lips pressed a brief kiss to the wrinkles above Tony's brow and watched them fade as he pulled back, heard Tony's breathing even out into a more relaxed pace as his fingers ran through his hair, caressing him fondly. “I won't nurse that hangover though. That you're doing on your own.” A soft mutter escaped Tony's sleeping lips. “Okay... I'll have a glass of water ready when you get up, but that's it. That's all I'll do until we start over...”

It would be hard for them, to have this discussion and continue on. But it would also be easy, easier than they could imagine to pick up where they had left off. Easy for them to fall back into their pattern of moving around in each other's presence. Easy them for to love each other so unabashed as before, because now they knew how badly they didn't want to be separated and how hard they would fight to prevent it from happening a second time.

_**End** _

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://arrafrost.tumblr.com/)


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